Snowfall in Imladris
by Silothiel
Summary: Frodo awakes to find the valley covered in snow, and Pippin and Merry are mischievous. (My first LotR fic! Set during the Quest.)
1. One Morning

It was an early December dawn, and the sun rose shrouded in cloud. A gentle snow fell from the skies above the Ered Wethrin. Most of it fell mercilessly upon the icy peaks, but some drifted into the secluded valley of Imladris. A warm glow was upon the land even before the sun had risen, due to the flickering reflections on the snow drifts.  
Frodo awoke with a start. The soft bed and down linens slowly brought him from dark dreams, and he remembered where he was. He lay still for a moment, waiting for his beating heart to slow. He was still having nightmares. The Nazgûl were searching for him, then they had found Merry, Pippin, Sam-No! He did not wish to dwell on such thoughts; he and his companions could never be harmed here.  
But for how long? His hand slowly moved to the chain around his neck. He could not dwell in peace and safety forever.  
His grim thoughts were interrupted by the faint sound of laughter. Frodo would have thought it the laughter of a small hobbit-child had he been in the Shire. Glad to have something else to focus on, he climbed out of the bed and looked outside. It was snowing! After quickly donning his coat, he went outside through ha small door to a balcony that looked over the eastern side of the valley.  
He saw two small elven children laughing and giggling in the snow. He had seen many elves in Rivendell, but they all seemed to have aged so. He had never seen any children.  
They leapt about in the swirling flakes. Their laughter was like a young, rippling brook washing over stones that hadn't felt the cool touch of water in an age.  
Their antics continued, and the male elfling of the pair tossed a snowball at the other. Frodo chuckled to himself, reminded of such playful maneuvers as a child. It rarely snowed in the Shire, and he and his cousins at Brandy Hall had always been up to a decent snow battle.  
The elflings' barrages continued, until they were called into the house by an elder, perhaps to a breakfast they had neglected to take in their excitement at seeing the snow.  
"Here now, Mr. Frodo," said a familiar voice behind him, "You'll catch cold going about in weather like this with naught but a spring jacket."  
"Good morning, Sam," said Frodo, turning to face his comrade. "I suppose you're right." He took the brown cloak that Sam offered and tied it about his shoulders. "You should follow your own advice Sam! Going out in the cold in just a cloak?" He brushed the snowflakes from Sam's hair playfully.  
Sam muttered something under his breath, but nonetheless peered over the edge of the railing next to his master.  
All was silent in the snowy dawn; the blanket of snow seemed to hush all sound and movement except for the gentle swaying of the trees and the steady descent of the snow. Still, Sam could not help himself from worrying over Frodo.  
"Come on now, Mr. Frodo," he said. "Let's go back inside where it's warm." He started walking towards the house when Frodo's hushed but excited voice stopped him.  
"Look, Sam!" he said, "Look at the gardens!"  
Sam turned around, and indeed saw a beautiful sight. Though the Gardens were covered in snow, a few splashes of color could still be seen; stubborn pansies and even roses poked through the frost. Bushes laden with bright red berries lined the Garden's edges and rushed up to clusters of evergreen trees, boughs heavily laden. Tumbling strings of ivy completed the scene; marking the path that led to the more secluded part of the garden. All the while, the snow was sparkling in the morning light.  
Sam was speechless. Frodo smiled. "We'll have to ask one of the gardeners how they maintain the flowers. Then everyone back in the Shire will wonder: 'How does Sam Gamgee's garden stay so beautiful even in the cold?'"  
Sam chuckled. "My Gaffer'd have a thing or two to say about that. 'What do you think yer doin' messin' about with elf-magic? It's bad business, Samwise,' he'd say."  
Now it was Frodo's turn to laugh. "Let's go inside. I'm famished! Then, after a good breakfast, we can go to the Hall of Fire and see if any of the elves are willing to impart their secrets."  
Sam was glad to see Frodo do cheerful again; acting as if nothing at all had happened that night on Weathertop. He followed him inside, debating with himself on how to properly ask the elves about their gardening technique, but not without one last look towards the valley at peace. 


	2. A Scheme

"No, Pippin!"  
"Why not? It's just for a bit of fun. Old Gandalf will understand."  
Merry scoffed inwardly at this proclamation. Gandalf rarely understood anything that the young lad did. "Even if Gandalf does understand, I doubt Lord Elrond will."  
Pippin crossed his arms across his chest and frowned. "You're no fun at all, Merry."  
He sighed.  
"Remember when it snowed back in the Shire? We'd go down the hills in Tuckborough, and then Uncle Bilbo would let us sled down the very hill that Bag End was built into. Wasn't that fun?"  
Getting no response from his cousin, he continued more desperately:  
"You saw that hill by the forest this morning! No one will iever/i find out," he concluded, with a grin that would win over even the sourest nanny back home. Merry had become very familiar with that look over the years.  
"Oh, all right!" he said. "But if we get caught, it'll be your head, Peregrin Took!"  
"Right then! Let's go!" He quickly left his seat on the bench and started off toward the south, with Merry reluctantly in tow.  
They hadn't gotten far when they came upon Sam and Frodo eating luncheon on the porch by the Garden.  
"Where are you two off to?" asked Sam, between bites.  
"You can come along if you promise not to tell." said Pippin, grinning mischievously.  
Frodo sighed. "I don't want to know. Have fun, you two."  
Pippin gave an awkward half-bow and stepped onto the grounds. Sam looked at them suspiciously, but decided not get mixed up in his friends' schemes; especially when led by Pippin.  
They eventually made their way to the kitchen; just a little while after the bell for luncheon rang. Their timing was perfect: All the cooks were off serving the food in the Dining Hall. They crept around, as careful as any hobbit can be, until they saw it: one grand silver serving tray, just big enough for a small hobbit to coast down a snow-covered hill on.  
"One left!" whispered Pippin. "Perfect!"  
"Shh!" hissed Merry. He kept glancing towards the doors, expecting one of the cooks to enter at any moment.  
Unfortunately, the table that the tray rested on was just a little too high. Pippin reached as far as he could, but he could only touch the tray with his fingertips.  
"Hurry up, Pip! I hear someone coming!" said Merry. Indeed, footsteps could be heard coming from the nearby hallway.  
Pippin was concentrating on getting the tray, and he didn't seem to hear him. "Almost."  
In burst a tall, dark-haired elf bearing two empty trays. He seemed very surprise to see the two young hobbits in his kitchen.  
"Good afternoon!" he said. "Is there something I can help you with, young sirs? If you are looking for food, it is all in the Dining Hall."  
Pippin stuttered, not quite knowing what to say, when Merry cut in:  
"We were planning to take our luncheon outside, and we wanted to borrow a tray to carry the food on, begging your pardon."  
Pippin glanced at his cousin wit ha look of surprise. Turning back to the elf, he said, "We were going to return it!"  
The elf looked at them strangely for a moment. "A strange request, but not unheard of," he said. "I would appreciate it if you would ask me first, next time."  
He took the tray off the table and placed it in Pippin's waiting hands. He grinned victoriously at his cousin when the elf was turned away.  
  
A little while later, they were on a small porch finished up the sandwiches and pastries that the cook had given them.  
"Brilliant, Merry!" said Pippin.  
Merry was rather pleased with himself. Having two lunches in one day was a rare treat.  
Once all of the food had been taken care of, the two hobbits set off with their newfound toboggan. They walked through ivy-covered paths, just as they had that same morning, until they came to a small opening in the low evergreen trees. The previously flat landscape dipped rather sharply, and then rolled out into the forest and meadow beyond.  
Pippin grinned. "Perfect."  
With one last look at Merry, he took the tray and began to slide down the hill on his stomach. The cold winter air whistled through his ears, nipping at his exposed face. He couldn't resist a small cry of joy; he felt like he was back in the Shire again.  
As the hill began to level out, he turned around and looked up at Merry. "You have got to try this, Merry!" he said.  
Just as Pippin was trudging up the hill, Sam came running down the path. He looked very flustered and out of breath. "Pippin." he panted.  
"Hullo, Sam!" he said.  
"You had better get that tray back before."  
'iPEREGRIN TOOK!i'  
".Gandalf finds out."  
Despite the cold weather, all the color drained from Pippin's face.  
"You've really done it this time, Pip," muttered Merry. 


End file.
